Page 14 of The Rumpled Gentleman
Chapter
Fourteen
T he duke entered the workroom as Orion put on his coat to leave.
He had in his hands the sheaf of reports and information that Elara and Orion had worked to put together.
He dropped the papers in a stack onto the only clear spot of a table. Looked about the room. Gave the spinning wheel a skeptical glance. Then he spoke with the air of a man whose patience had run thin.
“Tomorrow. I want to see results.” He spoke no threat, yet one hung in the air just the same. He left without another word.
Elara looked at Orion with wide eyes.
“I’ll be back in the morning to help,” he promised, his mind already delving into the plan he and Callon had formed. Callon’s favor-owing friend had come through. Orion already had an enchanted object in his possession. He had but to deliver it as the cloaked helper, explain to Elara how to use it, and then?—
She dropped to her knees and buried her face in her hands, a sob wracking her body. “I cannot keep doing this. He’s going to find out it’s all a lie. My father—what will happen to him? To my sisters?”
Orion went to the ground and gathered her close, pulling her into his lap as she turned her face into his shoulder. Her whole body trembled. He rocked her gently, murmuring words of comfort against her hair. Quite without meaning to, he placed his lips against her forehead to feather kisses against her skin between his reassurances.
Elara lifted her head from Orion’s shoulder, her eyes searching his. “How can you be so sure we’ll make it through this?” she whispered, the fear still evident in her voice.
Orion, his resolve solidifying at her question, held her gaze. “Because we have to.” His voice low but firm, continued, “Not just for your father, or your sisters, but for all of us who live under the shadow of demands we never agreed to shoulder. We will outsmart him, Elara. We have something he’ll never understand.”
“And what’s that?” Elara asked, her breath hitching.
“Ingenuity. Courage. And the will to protect those we care about,” Orion answered, helping her to her feet with gentle hands. “Trust me, Elara. Believe in me—in us.” He kept hold of her hands, and at his gentle words, she gripped his fingers tighter with her own.
“I am desperate, Orion,” she admitted. “How do you know we can do this?”
His heart, bruised on her behalf, took the lead. He enfolded her in his arms one more time. “Because we must. Because if we don’t, I will lose you. And I could not bear that, my darling. Not when I have barely found you.”
She stilled within his arms, then pushed back gently, lifting her gaze to his. Her eyes held surprise—and a question. Her lips parted, as though to ask it aloud, then pressed together again.
Perhaps it wasn’t the time for confessions of love. Not when so much hung in the balance. Instead, he leaned forward enough to place a deliberate kiss on her forehead, and her sharp intake of breath made him smile. He stepped back, his hands sliding away from hers. “I have a duty to see to this night. I hate to leave you like this.”
“Yet you must.” She tipped her head to one side and her eyes narrowed up at him. “Orion?”
“Yes?”
Her brow furrowed. “The night I arrived was the duke’s masquerade. Were you there?”
His heart skipped. “I was there.” He couldn’t reveal himself yet. He had to get everyone safe first.
Elara did not follow that line of questioning any farther. She only nodded, then stepped back. “You must attend to your business. I will do my best in your absence to prepare for tomorrow.” She gave him a tired smile when he hesitated. “Good evening, Orion. Until tomorrow.”
He bowed. “Until then.” And he left, the thought that she had discovered his secret itching at his thoughts.
Hours later, Orion navigated the shadowed grounds of the park with a weariness that seeped into his bones. The cloak he wore felt heavier than usual. Tucked beneath one arm, he carried a distaff. An item resembling a weathered broom handle more than a true tool. But the magic with which it had been imbued was strong enough to conjure illusions. A favor paid back to Callum from someone with obvious power.
Power that Orion knew only High Fey could command.
The night was deep, the park mostly quiet, save for the occasional creak of tree limbs or the distant call of a bird.
Orion’s mind, by contrast, felt far too full of noise. The day had been long, starting with the early hours spent in Elara’s company, a time that had become the most cherished part of his day. Then, the evening had been consumed by intense work with Greta as they worked to solve an issue with the steam engine designed to utilize the firestone.
As he stepped through the portal, the sight of Elara, hunched over her notes, her face etched with lines of fatigue and worry, struck a chord in his heart. The urge to comfort her, to take away the stress that shadowed her features, was overwhelming. He cleared his throat softly, announcing his presence, and watched as she lifted her head, her eyes widening in surprise and, he fancied, a flicker of relief. Until she saw what he held. Then she frowned at him.
He set the distaff across the table with care, his fingers brushing against the wood that hummed with latent magic. “This is no ordinary piece of wood. This is an enchanted distaff. With a single gold thread to start your work, the illusion the staff casts will make the flax appear as if it’s been spun into gold.”
He watched her rise, her movements slow, as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. She approached him, her gaze fixed on the staff with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. Orion took a moment to explain how the enchantment worked, how she must imbue her will on the flax to look like the gold, just as she used her will to make flowers be more than flowers. He was all the while acutely aware of her proximity. The air between them seemed charged, filled with an awareness that had nothing to do with the task at hand.
Perhaps he imagined it.
Elara went to a bundle of fiber and arranged it. Tugging, pulling, laying it out. Then she wrapped it around the distaff, securing it in place with a ribbon. He drew out the first fiber for her as she settled before the spinning wheel.
“Now for the gold.” He took out the spool from the pocket of his cloak.
She took it in her hands with a humorless laugh. “There isn’t much.”
“It will be enough.” He watched her use it as a lead for the rest of the fiber. Adding it in with the material that could only ever be linen thread—thread that had to pass for gold long enough for him to set them all free of the duke’s clutches.
She worked the spinning wheel treadle with a steady, slow rhythm. As though she had spun thread from flax all her life. As he watched Elara working the wheel, he allowed himself a moment to reflect on the depth of his feelings for her. She was no longer only a responsibility, a person he needed to protect; she had become someone he cared for deeply, someone whose happiness had become essential to his own.
The thought of what would happen once it was all over, once they thwarted the duke, filled him with a sense of dread. Would they go their separate ways, their connection severed by the return to their respective lives? Or was there a chance for something more, a future in which they could explore the feelings that had quietly grown between them?
As Elara focused on the spinning wheel, her mind bent on mastering the illusion, Orion watched with admiration for her strength. He wanted to believe they would find a way to remain in each other’s lives, that the bond they had formed would not be easily broken.
“Remember, it’s all about the illusion,” he reminded her, his voice tight with an emotion he couldn’t hide.
Elara looked up at him, her eyes searching his. Then, with a nod, she turned her attention back to the spinning wheel, the golden glow of the enchanted flax illuminating her face with soft radiance.
Orion stepped back, watching her work, the realization settling in his heart that no matter what the future held, he would do everything in his power to ensure her safety and happiness. And as he made his quiet exit, leaving her to the magic of the spinning wheel, he left behind his heart.